Of Lovers and Lightning
by CoKain
Summary: Set during three, post Raikov stuffed in the locker. Plotless fluff with a wee bit of Volginangst.


So how many people actually still read MGS fanfiction? Because I applaud you -clapclap-

-Disclaimer-  
Gee, so let's review- me no owny, which is weird because Raikov seems an awful lot like a character I might create, feminine, cruel, uke-esque, and totally fabulously ghey with his black panties, I wonder if it's standard issue? Does Eva have a pair too?...ahem on with the fanfiction, ne?

--

Everything was coming back into a hazy recognition, slowly and surely Ivan Raikov was beginning to regain the use of his flawlessly blue orbs.

And he was so not liking what he saw.

The first hint he recieved as to something was off was that he was shrouded in a claustrophobic sort of darkness.

Second was that he was awfully cold...

Groaning softly, Raikov opened his eyes fully, momentarily dazzled by the thin slants of light streaking across his vision. He was in a goddamn locker!

Of all the nerve.

He growled, the numbness situated in the small of his back ebbing away.

Returning to him his feeling and the memory of what happened.

The out-of-place(yet undeniably attractive)scientist, how he'd suddenly had a gun pointed in his face, but beyond that Raikov only vaguely remembered running before feeling the stinging pain that had led him to this.

"Damn" he swore, squirming uncomfortably.

--

"I want this building torn apart" Volgin snarled at the waiting soldiers "no one stops until you find Major Raikov, what are you waiting for? GO NOW!"

The soldiers wisely chose to hurry off rather then to hesitate a moment longer and risk certain death by their sadistic Colonel.

Putting a fist to his forehead, Volgin shuddered, fearing the worst for his blonde lover.

That man, that Snake was far from against killing off people to get what he needed. And him showing up in Ivan's uniform was hardly reassuring.

Damn that bastard to hell for making a mockery of his Ivan!

What if he was dead.

A horrid thought flooded Volgin, as though the true weight of the predicament only just hit him, what would happen if Ivan turned up dead?

Well for starters he'd kill every last person in this building for allowing it to happen.

--

An hour had passed, or perhaps more, and Volgin began to fear the worst; and with that fear a deep burning hatred for the man called Snake was born. Not because he was ruining the Colonel's plans but solely because the belief that Ivan was in fact dead was growing alarmingly plausible.

Just then a distraction appeared in the form of a radio call.

"Colonel" the crackling standard-issue radio sounded "we've found him, he's up in the locker room.

Volgin wasted no time heading for the spot, practically mowing over a solo officer as he went.

Stopping in the doorway, he breathed deeply, relief flooding his being. There, shivering on a bench and wrapped up tightly in a blanket was his precious Ivan; unharmed and deeply annoyed.

The young man's effeminiate voice reached his ears, whining about his stint in the locker, and how cold he was.

--

"How come you fools couldn't come quicker, wait 'til I tell Colonel Volgin how useless you morons are" he blew petulantly at the hair in his face and clutched the blanket harder with his numb fingers.

He could see Volgin standing there, just on the edge of his vision, but he failed to acknowledge the frightening man, not least of all because he felt like he'd failed the man in some way.

The mere idea of him failing made Raikov flush angrily and he lashed out at the soldier attempting to assist him.

"Get lost, go away, leave me alone!" he shreiked, shrinking against himself.

--

Volgin chuckled at this display, his eyes fixed on Raikov as the man stiffened. Unable to deny the Colonel's presence a moment longer.

As the soldiers cleared out (another wise choice), Volgin approached the blonde major, well aware of Raikov's reluctance to face him.

Placing himself before Raikov, Volgin cupped a hand beneath the other's fragile jaw and tilted it up, drinking in the wide oceanic eyes and quivering lips.

Raikov was such a child.

(I dunno, just some semi-sweet fluff...like the artificial sweetner of fluff fiction? Note: Yes I DO support this freaky pairing, in all it's holy-crap-why-is-Raikov-so-sexy-and-Volgin-so-yucky-and-yet-they're-togetherness.) 


End file.
